Sikitikis
Fuga Dal Deserto Del Tiki

Multifaceted and remarkable debut/first work over a long (tempus fugit) distance, this acoustically inclined foray from the unknown “Deserto Tikesco" of the Cagliaritani [thus Sardinians, not to mention Tricolorics (regardless of what some obnoxious, dull, pseudo-intellectual/Padanian-like individuals might think)] Sikitikis.

Sketchy project, initiated several years ago, to concretely contextualize in music and offer a heartfelt "homage to the great composers of film music" the Sikitikis (version twothousandandfour) astonish and tantalize the disparaged audio/acoustic apparatus, with a wide/kaleidoscopic sonic range, trailing (we're always and anyway chatting, obviously, about the dense underground/musical undergrowth of boot-shaped land) an unexpected yet welcome compositional coolness; from the original "hard"/lounge/exotica celluloid essence (still an essential and foundational element) of the beginnings, it transcends and overcomes, in this enjoyable and winding "Fuga", towards a music approach, significantly psycho/garage/rock(without guitars)-infected; secondary (but not in order of importance) great “passion” inspirer emerging from the Sikitikis-debut is a certain Patton-esque transversal/mutability (especially in His Mr. Bungle-esque understanding). The truly anthemic (not at all obvious) "Donna Vampiro", "Non avrei mai" (accompanied by a delightful video paying tribute to Romerian "Dawn Of The Dead") therefore the impetuous "Umore Nero" represent (in the humble opinion of who writes) the absolute pinnacles of an overall and unexpectedly (thus) successful work. A note often-at-the-margin, deserves (surely) the reprise of the well-known (and wonderful) "L'importante è finire" of Mina-memory: no gratuitous distortion (fortunately), but a heartfelt, chiaroscuro/Nocturnal and damnably sensual homage to the great, stentorious "Voice" par excellence: it is hard to appreciate such and such transcriptional savoir-faire, in reinterpreting sonic-material (most daring) of such thoroughly anything but simplistic musical-makeup.

Two/three mellifluous episodes (out of twelve tracks), more “ordinary” and Subsonically-tendential (the whole produced, by coincidence, by Casasonica, of Mr. Max Casacci...), do not allow/permit the granting of a higher appreciation in the accomplished and comprehensive assessment of the Sikitikis’s first work. In case it wasn’t understood: excellent debut (thus and anyway). There's nothing left but to try to eavesdrop (repeatedly) on “the product” and flee with Them (heels up) thief-like, from the inhospitable and scarcely crowded desert (and from the long-hand of Casacci..).